Chapter 6 - THE SIGNATURE OF A DEAD WOMAN
Forgery changes a room.
A conflict can be explained.
A bad investment can be debated.
A dead woman’s signature on a current transfer request leaves very little room for comforting interpretations.
Adrian stared at the document.
“Whoever submitted this knew the bank still had Celeste listed as a historical trust protector.”
Rebecca nodded.
“They attempted to exploit an outdated authority record.”
“Victor?”
“We need proof.”
That proof arrived faster than expected.
The bank’s call recording system had captured the verification attempt.
Victor did not personally call.
His family-office controller, Martin Hale, did.
Martin had worked for the Kanes for twenty-two years.
By evening, he had retained counsel.
The next morning, he requested to cooperate with the independent investigation.
Victor had instructed him.
That was Martin’s statement.
Victor had allegedly told him the Kane family already approved restructuring the funds.
Martin admitted he knew Celeste was dead.
That fact destroyed any plausible administrative explanation.
But Martin also revealed something else.
Victor had not started moving trust money after Celeste became ill.
It began seven years earlier.
Before Noah was born.
Before Adrian married Celeste.
The Kane Legacy Trust originally included assets for Adrian and any future children.
Victor had been treating it as a private investment pool for years.
“Why didn’t Dad catch it?” Adrian asked.
Margaret answered.
“Your father trusted his brother.”
Another generation.
Same mistake.
Then Rebecca found the oldest disputed investment.
$14 million moved into Northstar to purchase warehouse properties in New Jersey.
Those properties had appreciated dramatically.
Current estimated value:
$48 million.
Legally untangling ownership would take months, perhaps longer.
But one thing became increasingly clear:
Noah’s trust might not merely recover its losses.
It might be entitled to significant gains.
Adrian barely reacted to that.
He cared more about the deception.
That evening, Noah returned to the office for only ten minutes because Margaret was picking Adrian up for dinner.
He marched directly to my desk.
“Did Dad laugh today?”
I stared at him.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“That is not a normal question to ask your father’s employee.”
He considered this.
“Did he smile?”
I lowered my voice.
“You are six.”
“I know.”
“You need hobbies.”
“I have Legos.”
Adrian appeared behind him.
“Noah.”
His son grinned.
“Hi, Dad.”
Then Noah looked at me.
“Grandma says you’re coming to dinner.”
My eyes widened.
Adrian closed his.
“Mother.”
Margaret stepped out of the elevator.
“What?”
I had never wanted the executive floor to swallow me more.
“I’m not attending family dinner,” I said firmly.
Margaret smiled.
“Good. It’s not family dinner.”
“What is it?”
“Thank-you dinner.”
“For what?”
“For stopping my son from calling Victor before we secured records.”
Adrian gave her a look.
She ignored it.
“I have reservations for four.”
Noah corrected:
“Five. Gerald counts.”
I laughed.
Adrian looked at me.
Something in his expression softened.
“Come.”
One word.
Not an order.
A request.
I should have said no.
Instead:
“One dinner.”
Noah punched the air.
Adrian sighed.
Dinner was surprisingly normal.
No board reports.
No trust accounting.
No billion-dollar acquisitions.
Noah told me his teacher thought dinosaurs might have feathers and explained at length why this was unacceptable.
Margaret told embarrassing stories about Adrian at seven.
Adrian threatened to end dinner three times.
I laughed more than I had in months.
Then Margaret excused herself to take Noah to wash his hands.
For the first time, Adrian and I were alone.
He looked at me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For Victor dragging you into the board meeting.”
“You didn’t.”
“I should have stopped him sooner.”
“He wanted me embarrassed.”
“Yes.”
“It didn’t work.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“No.”
The air shifted.
Dangerously.
Then my phone vibrated.
An email from Kane Global HR.
Subject:
CONFIDENTIAL COMPLAINT REGARDING EXECUTIVE CONDUCT.
Someone had submitted an anonymous complaint alleging I was pursuing an inappropriate romantic relationship with Adrian in exchange for career advancement.
Attached was a photograph.
Adrian and me leaving the restaurant together.
Taken less than three minutes earlier.
May you like
Victor might have lost his office.
But somebody was still watching us.
